Casual Corruption
by CapturedByNoodles
Summary: Having lived in the country his whole life, Mikado rarely experienced anything phenomenal. Socially inept, a prodigy and a recluse, he came to Ikebukuro to study where he hoped to nurture his craft in computer coding. Little did Mikado know those same skills would, forcibly, be used to aid a flamboyant, miscreant bank robber with blonde hair and a troubled past.
1. Chapter 1: All change is not growth

**Author's Note:** This is just an idea I had. I've never written a semi-alternate-universe for Durarara, but I noticed that the Mikado/Kida fandom is severely lacking in fics and this is my lame attempt to rectify it. I'm pretty big on this series and as the anime progresses I'm pretty sure the love for this pairing will also grow. And speaking of growth...

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><p><strong>【All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward】<strong>

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><p>The phrase<em>, nobody move, this is a stick up, <em>is such an overused cliché, Mikado supposed it made things more anticlimactic than suspenseful.

When he'd sit on the floor of his room, trying to mindlessly kill boredom with a bag of convenience store snacks, he would come across those old western movies on television and they'd all be caught saying the same thing. As the protagonists charged into a store or a bar with their pistols in the air these Hog tying, cattle roping bandits would spout the same cheesy line that would make Mikado sigh, question the prowess of American cinema, before rolling his eyes and retreating back to his computer. Today the delivery was not really different.

"Nobody move, this is a stick up!... _Haha, _I've always wanted to say that."

Except for at this particular moment in time, Mikado did _not _have a chat room screen to hide him from this absurdity. He did _not _have a television set in front of him, though he was sure that if he did it would make this predicament a lot easier to stomach. Because the harsh reality was, this was _real, _and oh so very _not _entertaining. With his hands in the air, Mikado and several other innocent civilians effectively froze and just _god, why did this have to happen to him today? _

"On your knees, pockets open now, not a word!"

Mikado sunk fluidly while others were forced to the ground with a rough push. The people that came in the bank earlier didn't look physically intimidating, but coming from him, who sadly lacked in any muscle strength or body hair, his own input on the matter wasn't exactly comforting. Besides, they didn't need to be big and bulky since the crowbars in their hands and knifes were all the intimidation anyone needed. Mikado shakily pulled out whatever he had in his pocket, and was surprised that he was one of the very few to not soil himself, somehow managing to follow the command with little difficulty.

The young sixteen year old didn't know what was worse. The fact that he, having barely accomplished anything in the span of his life, might die at the hands of criminals? Or the sad, mind numbing truth that those same criminals were holding up a bank with retired euphemisms.

He honestly didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"Dump yours purses, wallets, everything on the floor and stay down. Nobody try anything funny, ya hear?" A rather chunky fellow, with a frightening, shark toothed mask hissed, and Mikado grimaced. Like they would try anything _funny _with a bunch of blunt objects shoved in their faces. Mikado listened to what they said. Throwing his wallet in a pile, he scrambled to the corner with the others on his knees. A few of the robbers went up to talk to the teller, and everyone watched quietly as they haggled her for all the money in the register.

This was all such a new experience for him.

Ah, you know. _This. _Mikado had never been in danger before. Maybe it was a little sad, and kind of sheltered, but the closest thing he'd gotten to a near death experience had been when he slipped in the river as a kid. He was raised in the country, which entailed patches of grass and dull, uneventful days of sitting around and skipping rocks. This was his second week in the city so he wasn't too familiar on its ins and out yet, but he learned quickly that Ikebukuro was a twisting, turning maze of buildings, back alleys, and secret spots.

Mikado was amazed that people were all shapes and sizes here, for variation was scarce in flavor back in his backwater hometown, Saitama, where he'd lived for the past sixteen years. There, everything was close by. People's banks where their empty mayonnaise jars, where he remembered keeping a large number of coins and cash of every sort. The nearest convenience store was usually his neighbor's fridge, where his parents would ask for milk, butter—any excuse really to avoid driving to the next town over—until they'd gotten tired of interacting at all in a mundane sort of back and forth.

Mikado hadn't even seen a real bank until he moved here, so it took him a while to find this place. Honestly, he'd been too busy getting settled in to run this errand until now. Walking here had been a last minute decision, since Mikado initially told himself he would come here tomorrow when it was less busy. But for whatever reason he came today, and all he'd wanted to do was check how much money his parents left him. A pretty ordinary motive, seeing as they were helping him pay his way through college by helping him get an apartment.

Simply put, Mikado guessed he could be considered a genius though he never really felt like one. At sixteen, believe it or not, Mikado had been eligible to skip ahead. Way ahead. Having breezed through his school work with flying colors, and exhibiting an IQ well past his years, it gave him the opportunity to study at Raira University in Ikebukuro. Where only the elite—in more familiar terms, the _nerds—_went to harness more knowledge and become successful.

Ah-hah, not that he had any ambitions to become some sort of powerful politician or anything.

Mikado had smaller dreams that he wished to bring to fruition. He'd like to build the world's best, internet security system, or work for himself. He wasn't entirely sure. He was, or at least some have claimed, an intellectual phenomenon in the technological community, and having cracked multiple codes, patched himself through otherwise restricted websites, he'd helped a lot of smaller company's in the past secure their assets. He even started doing it all for fun.

Seeing in numbers gave Mikado a thrill, because it was the power to see what many others couldn't. Yet consequently, his parents noted he became a recluse, and Mikado couldn't even argue the point because it was painfully true. He was barricaded in his room most of the time, and if friends on the internet didn't count (his parents insisted they didn't) he had made zero acquaintances during the brief period he was in high school and at the rate he was going, that quota wouldn't change.

He wasn't athletic, didn't join any clubs, so one could only imagine what his birthdays were like. Not very eventful – though he expected as much. He was average in appearance as average could be. Not having any big, distinguishing features apart from his blue eyes, and peculiar name. He just wasn't popular and never expected himself (apart from his brain) to become the object of anyone's fixation or intrigue, so it was a sad realization that no one could vouch for him if the robbers decided to brutally beat him to death first.

Mikado never expected this new chapter in his life would start with him emptying the contents of his wallet. Even he was mildly disappointed by how _little _he had. Letting them peruse his sorry excuse for cash with a soft snort, he knew the robbers weren't very pleased when they noticed all he had were a few yen, a student ID, and a curious bit of blue string.

"What are you, homeless?" One of them snarled, then they threw it at his face. He caught it. On the bright side, least he got his wallet back. Even though he was mildly offended it wasn't good enough for them. Mikado frowned to himself and stuffed it back in his pocket.

"E-excuse me…" A shy voice whispered to his right. Mikado turned his head and what he saw almost had him gaping. This young girl was kneeling next to him with her hands behind her back. Breasts—_oh god _was he sorry, but he couldn't look away—in all their monstrous size, jiggling from her shift in posture as she stared at him with cautious interest. "…I'm sorry but…I couldn't help but notice your ID? I go to Raira so…"

"O-oh." Mikado muttered, struggling to make eye contact. "Really?" Guess he hadn't noticed a similar form of identification on her blouse, considering the hostile takeover and all. Still…now that he did. Meeting her eyes again with a shyness he didn't know he was capable of, Mikado felt the heat rise to his cheeks when his blue eyes met a worried, bespectacled gaze. She was really beautiful.

"Are you new?" The mystery girl continued quietly, and amidst the incoming steps of their captors, Mikado nodded his head as subtly as he could. Seriously, his heart was going crazy.

"Y-yeah. I'm supposed to start this semester," He was surprised with how normal his voice sounded, apart from the stutter, but he somehow always managed to sound meek. It was one of his greatest roadblocks. "I just came here recently too." After settling into his crappy apartment a few miles from here. But the cute girl didn't need to know that.

"O-oh. I'm sorry." She seemed to genuinely feel ashamed. "It must be terrible to have had to go through this on your first day…"

No, it wasn't Mikado's idea of a good time. However, he supposed it wasn't all bad if he got the chance to talk to his really gorgeous colleague. She must have been about eighteen? Nineteen? Mikado's throat felt dry. He was a recluse, but he was most certainly not sexually or emotionally inept or anything. At this moment, he'd be a liar if he wasn't thinking, if after this mess, to ask her out for…coffee.

Or something.

That's…what people in college do, right?

A-ask girls out for coffee?

"What's your name?" That was a start. Besides, he really wanted to know. That was a harmless enough question, and a potential conversation starter. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Anri," She smiled timidly, "Anri Sonohara. And yours?"

Mikado liked that name a lot. For some reason he ashamedly felt like a school girl with a crush, but it wasn't a terrible feeling. Now it was his turn, and it was usually the part that got him the most raised eyebrows.

"Mikado Ryūgamine," He replied, bracing himself for the weird looks. Except none came.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Mikado," She said politely, falling back into silence as one of the robbers shot them a look. He was surprised, that's for sure. Usually people compared his name to some mangaka, television star, or _something _not common place - but he received no such reaction from her. Mikado's lips tilted upwards. It made her even _more _amazing to him.

T-Though... now was probably not the time to become infatuated.

As if to reemphasize this, there was a soft wail. The people with them, all piled up like sardines were whimpering and sobbing like children, and Mikado broke out of his love induced haze. It was a real mood killer, but what else did he expect? Like it would make a good story to say that he met his potential girlfriend—Mikado was clearly delirious and fantasizing because of trauma, so forgive him—during a robbery and they lived happily ever after. Mikado sighed, then fidgeted. Though he supposed that the somber mood wasn't affecting _everyone_. Mikado had felt breathing on his neck for quite some time now, and though he chalked it up to someone being just too _scared _and _too __close _it was starting to become intrusive.

Mikado finally steeled his nerves and turned around when a _purposeful _breath of air moved against the back of his neck. As he turned around, annoyed, he was surprised to see a boy his age staring back at him with dirty, saffron hair. Completely calm. In fact, Mikado could say he had a slight grin on his face: and he'd been clearly listening to his conversation with Anri the whole time.

In an abrupt, quick movement, the boy scooted in-between him and Anri with a bright, mischievous smile.

Mikado was stunned.

"Couldn't help but notice you two talking," The other's tone was peppy and light. He swung his arm around Mikado like he was a long lost friend, and Mikado cringed. _Personal space. _He was big on that, but the blonde sure wasn't. "Since we're doing introductions, I thought I'd introduce myself too. Now, now, I'm sure you're all eager!" _Not really. _"So I'll spare you the guessing games because in this dark time, during this hour of need, I, in good conscience, can't deprive you of such knowledge any longer! Especially when you're accompanied by such a hottie."

Mikado's mouth ran dry.

Did... this person just say that out loud?

That _person _laughed.

Why yes, yes he did.

"I'll give you one question and three possible answers," Mikado watched him babbke animatedly, holding up three fingers and wiggling them around more than he probably should. At the end of each sentence the boy's voice rose in volume, punctuating for effect. "The question is, what is this mysterious, handsome guy's _name_? Possible answer one, Kida. Possible answer _two, _Kida, and possible answer **_three! _****_Kida!_**"

"Shut up! D'ya wanna die!?" One of the robbers hissed at them, and Mikado flailed his arms around in a forced gesture of good will, hissing for this person now formally known as _Kida_ to _stop._

"You're going to get us in trouble!" Mikado whispered harshly, but Kida ignored him.

"You know, I like where you were going with this, Mi-ka-do, you're really a gutsy guy, I'll give you that."

"Huh?" Mikado rasped. Kida had apparently heard what his name was, and there was something about the way it rolled off his tongue that unnerved Mikado and flustered him simultaneously. To that effect, he'd never met anyone so shameless before. And if he closed his eyes, Mikado would have thought they weren't in the middle of a burglary right now with how the other was whispering—barely, it looked like he was struggling to keep his voice low—with the utmost cheer.

"Thinking of being the hero and saving the damsel in distress from the evil robbers? That's what you were doing, right?" Kida teased, and Mikado blushed. Hard.

"No!" He sputtered, "I mean, yes? No?" Well, if it came down to it he would! Mikado's cries fell on deaf ears. Mr. Sunshine was now on Anri like a desperate, drooling fly to some fruit, and Mikado was certain he'd sprout wings. "Not to fear, sugar tits," Mikado gaped at him. "...this guy over here," the blond spoke, extending his hand towards Mikado, "is going to make sure you're safe and sound."

"That's…that's really not necessary." She responded embarrassed, and _oh god _Mikado could dig himself a hole right now and die in it. But Kida had no such inclination to do so as he just kept going with no tact. "Not to mention you have me protecting you, and I'm a defender of justice!" Kida wiggled his eyebrows. _Really? _Mikado thought. _Flirting? _"Aren't you lucky? "To think you have two, handsome princes to guard your boobilicous self from the frightening villains!"

"This isn't a joke!" Mikado sputtered, but with firm resolve, causing the other boy to pout. What kind of word was boobilicous anyways?!

"Besides…" Mikado's eyes darted to the robbers in blue, who were trying to open the safe but failing each time. "They don't know the code to that safe, and soon they're going to get frustrated…which means we'll all be in danger." He bit his lip, wary as one of the robbers kicked the metal doors to the safe as it once again denied him access.

Kida just whistled.

"Is that so…" Kida pondered out loud, tilting his head. "Why do you sound like you know something they don't?"

"Well, because I can already tell what the code is." Mikado responded quickly, without thinking. Probably not a smart thing to say out loud. "And they'll never figure it out."

"What?" Kida shook his head, chuckling. "That's impossible."

"Not for me."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Oh I see." Kida seemed to come to some sort of conclusion because his face lit all the way up. Kida's fist gently landed on his palm, nodding sagely. "You're one of those mega dorks, right?!"

"M-Mega dorks?"

It felt like Mikado was pierced through the heart with an arrow, but Kida was staring at him in awe, like that was supposed to be a compliment. That was _obviously _a blatant insult. No matter how much he stretched it.

"I wouldn't say that," Mikado responded with an annoyed expression and Kida laughed, quickly apologizing. His laughed sounded... _nice._

"Sorry, sorry. Just, I think that's pretty cool Mikado."

_Cool? _If it was cool, than why was he considered a dork? Mikado didn't have time to voice his thoughts. Not when suddenly, one of the guys in the masks stormed towards them with their weapon extended, tsking under their breath with a sneer. "Pipe down unless you want to die!" They seethed. Then, in a quick motion, their captor glanced down at Anri, who stared back at him, frightened.

_Oh no._

The outline of a smirk made itself apparent under the fabric of the crudely made shark garment and Mikado immediately became defensive.

He knew that body language anywhere.

"Now what do we have here…?" The fellow said snidely.

He grabbed Anri by her nimble arms and pulled her up.

Mikado flinched.

"Wow, you're quite the looker, ain't ya?"

Mikado didn't think. He had no time to. He stood up, eliciting a faint laugh from the man who was gripping Anri's wrists tightly with his hands as his chubby fingers dug into her skin. Not that Mikado planned this kind of retaliation. Sure when he was a kid, Mikado dreamt of doing something slightly heroic. But that always fell within the realms of realism, like saving a cat from a tree. Helping an elderly women make her way across the street was a fine option too. Not getting possibly bludgeoned to death. That was never on his agenda - but if this was how he was going to go, Mikado found he rather die trying than to let Anri get hurt.

Her flesh began to visibly bruise.

"What the fuck do ya think you're doing kid? Sit down," The criminal spat.

"N-no!" Mikado responded bravely. _Oh god he was so going to die wasn't he? _He balled his hands into fists ready to fight for his life, though it would mostly be for his. That is until a hand squeezed his shoulder from behind. He turned around. Kida was giving him a friendly, lop sided grin before patting his head and saying good job. Whatever that meant. Why was he acting stupid now, at a time like this? Mikado wasn't in the mood for his games.

"I can take it from here," Kida beamed, fearlessly walking up to the vigilante in an easy going, non-threatening motion. _What? Him?_"Now come on guys, let's not pick on defenseless girls alright? That's kind of lame."

_Great_, Mikado thought. Now Mikado was going to have to witness Kida getting beat to a bloody pulp_. _

"Shut up. Sit back down unless you want your brains bashed in!"

"K-Kida, listen to him," Mikado interjected, because even if they were strangers he didn't want him to get hurt.

Kida would do no such thing as Mikado stepped towards him, hoping to deter him. Well, until he got a good look at his face. The teasing expression was gone, and replacing it was uncharacteristic seriousness. Mikado's breath caught in his throat, noticing the silliness had dissipated. And Kida's shoulders were tensed, his feet, locked into an offensive stance. It was kind of scary, Mikado realized, like this. Where the hell did the flirtatious jokster go?

"Let her go," Kida's voice commanded, cold. Auburn eyes narrowed considerably, and the man in front of them snorted.

"Make me shrimp," Came the crude response, and Anri was tossed onto the ground where Mikado scrambled to help her.

The blond tilted his head and frowned at the display.

"Are you okay?" Mikado asked worriedly. Anri nodded; then they both heard it. The hard smack. A loud thud. Mikado whipped his head around to see a body hit the floor; it wasn't Kida's. In the blink of an eye, the delinquent with the weapon was on the ground, blood gushing from his nose from a punch he hadn't been quick enough—was Kida a martial arts expert?—to block. Kida brought his hands back up. The smudges of crimson stained his hands and he wiped them on his black jeans. Chuckling under his breath, Kida sighed loudly, almost dramatically, holding a hand to his chest.

"I told you dude," Kida singsonged, and Mikado gaped as he stepped on the beaten perps face with his foot slowly _pressed_ down. "Picking on defenseless girls is lame."

"You there!" The others were aware of the commotion now. "What the FUCK do you think you're doing? You're dead you little shit!"

That's what Mikado was asking!

Then something more _surreal _happened.

In a bizarre display of mind numbing peculiarities, the members of this gang, group, _whatever, _started to _attack _each other.

"What the...?" Mikado and Anri stared. It started with one randomly beginning to punch the other. Than several more followed, and _several more u_ntil most of the men clad in blue were knocking the rowdier ones out; and in moments they were tied up. Masks dropped to the floor to be replaced with bright, yellow scarves.

Mikado's mouth was wide open.

_What… just happened?_

A teller by the bank window fainted. Kida moved towards the new group and Mikado, not knowing what the hell was going on, quickly latched onto him by his pants legs, trying to stop him. _This was crazy!_

"Stop!" Mikado cried. "It's dangerous."

He'd heard of reckless bravery, but he never met anyone so recklessly stupid.

Kida seemed to find this hilarious though.

"Don't worry. They're cool." He assured. Then he stepped away, greeting the others in yellow like they were his buddies in arms. Mikado frowned. Well that sure was strange. Sure Kida was friendly, but they knew nothing about these people. Why had they been pretending to be thieves? Were they undercover cops? Mikado squinted his eyes. No. They were too young to be cops. _So then who...?_

Kida turned around with his hands on his hips.

Voice loud and proud in all its cheerful nature, he addressed the people in the bank, who were a little more than disturbed and confused. "Hello everyone! Ladies, gentleman, if I can have your attention please!"

Mikado's face paled as Kida, to his horror, pulled on a yellow scarf.

_Oh come on._

"I'd like to apologize for the inconvenience." The yellow hoodlums behind him were chortling. "See," Kida's face was construed into mock disappointment. "These guys beat us to the punch. We made plans to stage a robbery – but what happens? Togusa here totally spilled the beans, let the hen fly the coop, and we were almost swindled! How could you man? I'm so hurt!" Kida whined, throwing his hands around one of his friends, who snickered in awkward embarrassment behind his gold hoodie. Kida roughly rubbed the back of the mans head, his lips pursed.

"So instead of being robbed by them..." The blond motioned towards the moaning men in blue. "You're going to be robbed by us. Sound cool? I'm super excited everyone's on board!"

Mikado's eyes went wide.

_W__as this seriously happening?_

Kida's gazed fixed on him and he felt an impending sense of dread.

"Now that we got this situation under control, there's totally no need to fear! We'll be out of your way as soon as we finish." Kida was smiling, molar to molar. "We're not as reckless as these guys. So if everyone will just stay put and listen to your ipods or something, we'll be out of your lives in no time," He stopped. glancing at Anri. "Unless a select few ladies _want _me in their life?"

Mikado would roll his eyes if he weren't in so much shock.

The crying started again.

Kida walked towards Mikado with that familiar twinkle and Mikado cursed himself now for letting his tongue slip.

He _knew _what Kida was going to ask when he stopped in front of him, head cocked.

"As for you buddy ol' pal! Ah, obviously this was fate right?"

Mikado began to inch away.

_No way was he going to do it._

Mikado looked back at the other boy nervously.

_Forget it._

"That code you were talking about earlier." Kida went on his knees. Bending down to his eye level, his mouth snaked into a sly smirk. "Usually, the only person I'd ever beg to, would be a women with a round ass and large, voluptuous tits! But today? I humbly request your service, Mikado. Despite having _none_ of those features."

The timid boys stomach churned.

When he came to this city for an adventure, he hadn't been looking for _this _one.

"Mind giving it to me, please?"


	2. Chapter 2: Scratch where it itches

**Author's Note:** Enter Heiwajima Shizuo and Tom.

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><p><strong>【Scratch where it itches】<strong>

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><p>More often than not, a lot of people underestimate Ikebukuro.<p>

Those who do, get nicked.

It sadly ain't a petty scratch, but a full on amputation; and Tom Tanaka saw it all the time. He lost count of how many suckers walked into this place and left it without a leg, or a kidney, or worse—didn't leave at all. Sure, it's a city. Outward appearances mattered after all. Masked by false trepidation's, egged on by infomercials and fruity pamphlets, it incited eye candy into tourists and foreigners alike. So yeah, first and foremost it was part of Japan's eight central wards, and for all everyone else knew…it would stay that way.

However, before describing it as a place or even a home, Tom Tanaka saw it as a living, breathing thing. It has veins, channels that work to the edge of Toshima ward to its vocal point, Sunshine city. It has a voice that articulates itself in the form of cheesy TV advertisements, to the visualized red-light district. It has fingers that reach out to other countries in the world, and entice them to visit. And like all living things, it has a will and a way.

If it wants you to be happy, it'll help you along. If it wants you to find solace, it'll ensure your stay is peaceful. But if it wants you to be corrupted? Dragged into the filth that rests deep within its underbelly? Then you find yourself waist-deep in shit…

…and that was Tom's job.

To deal with the _shit._

Sitting in a patrol car, parked near the alley of a popular arcade, Tom fanned himself against the scorching, summer heat. He's worked for the Ikebukuro Police Department for a consecutive ten years. Family business. His father retired just last year, so now he was basically in charge. And as much as he could get used to the violence, the shooting, even the troublesome chasing he's had to do during his stay, what he couldn't get used to were summers. Man was today a real cooker. He let out a loud sigh.

Windows down, and bubble-gum pop music playing, Tom watched his partner slam the door to the back seat open and throw someone in. After shutting the door, Tom felt the car rock as his companion sat down in the driver's seat, lighting a cigarette with a quick swish of his hands. A drawn out puff of smoke seeped through the open window of the car, dissolving into the air. It was channeled past chapped, pink lips, and a deeply etched scowl, and Tom knew his fellow officer was _especially _peeved under this sun.

Brushing a blonde hair behind his ear, Tom smirked as he heard his friend sigh just as irritated as he had a minute ago. They worked in tandem, he and his partner, though today seemed a little less quiet than usual since all they had to do was hunt some crook that robbed a little old lady of her purse. Though trust that it wasn't easy either since the guy ran like a race horse.

They probably chased the criminal a good three miles out before they cornered him, cuffed him, and his partner nearly broke the other man's legs. Now with the criminal sitting in the back seat, complaining about it being too hot, about being abused, etcetera—Tom knew his partner's patience was waning. Shizuo Heiwajima, his friend, and officer in arms since training could be a little on the temperamental side. The lady on the radio, squawking loudly about needing them on some scene, wasn't making Shizuo's already shit day any better. For the past five minutes they've been hearing the same over-repeated transmission.

_"Officer's we've got a code green. Code green on 96th and Sunshine Street."_

A click, and some static.

_"Ikebukuro bank. There's a hostage situation. Possible robbery. Do you copy?"_

Tom readied himself for the onslaught of slurs.

The women on the other end of the transmitter was new, so she didn't know any better. That saying anything to Officer Heiwajima, when he was in a bad mood, was like lighting a fire under an already burning kettle.

_"Requesting immediate assistance. Code green on 96th and Sunshine street, I repeat, do you copy?"_

With a harsh smack, the device was messily taken out of its cradle.

"I heard you the _first _time. We're _on _it," Shizuo snarled, scary enough to paralyze even the most dangerous offenders. The poor women let out something akin to a pig squeal before responding with a choked, _A-alright. _Tom chuckled, because she was probably having a heart attack right about now. Shizuo could be pretty intimidating, after all, but he swore to the highest heavens the guy had a heart of gold.

He just wasn't adept at showing it.

Slammed back into its socket with enough force to shake the vehicle, Tom watched Shizuo grunt and eye the transmitter like it was scum. "I swear, they think we're deaf." Shizuo muttered obstinately. The large man with bleached blond hair and blue sunglasses, tugged his police cap down.

"Sometimes these radios don't work, man," Tom pointed out. He tapped the device, "I think it's just protocol."

"Well, it's _annoying._" Shizuo responded with a huff. He snapped his cigarette in half and promptly tossed it out the window, into the nearest trash can.

Shizuo Heiwajima was a _peculiar _addition to the Ikebukuro police department. Though that in itself is an understatement since he's everything a cop _shouldn't_ be. Ill tempered, aggressive, and quick to make rash decisions, Tom couldn't count on hand how many times he's had to stop his partner from practically chucking vigilantes across the span of a football field, or had to tell him it wasn't okay to stick them to a lamppost—because that could get them law suits.

They've known each other since high school, though Tom was a few years ahead of Shizuo, a senior at the time. Back in the day, Shizuo—as he could best describe him—was misunderstood. A lot of people would pick fights with the guy because of some rumors back in middle school - about him being a monster with super strength. And when they did? Well, they'd end up in the hospital with more than a few broken ribs and a fractured jaw, that's for sure. Trust Tom didn't feel sorry for them, but when he did witness Shizuo throwing an underclassmen across a fence, it was surprising to say the least.

This only fueled the speculations about Shizuo being some menace.

From then on people would avoid him, and Tom witnessed him throwing his fists around every day. Everyone was gossiping he was bad news. Tom admits, he was kind of an odd one himself, so he never really fell into the trends or listened to the rumors. One day, he just approached Shizuo, started talking to him and found he was just a peaceful dude trying to make it by.

Shizuo was as harmless as a puppy, so long as you didn't piss him off. That abnormal strength of his just made it difficult to appear normal to people.

_"Shinra told me it's like an adrenaline rush to the brain, I think," _Shizuo said at the time. _"But I really don't care what it is…I don't like violence, Tom." _Tom could only nod his head then, and stare mutely at the ground.

Later Tom found out Shinra was Shizuo's childhood friend, who later grew up to become one of Japan's finest medical surgeons. Shizuo, who graduated soon after and was wafting from job to job, didn't know what he wanted to do.

Tom heard he got fired from several establishments. Even got pissed at a customer and threw a cash register at him in a grocery store. So when Shizuo lost that job, Tom decided to swing by.

There he asked one particular question.

_"You still don't like violence?"_

_Shizuo stared at him with an indistinguishable look in his eyes. The sound of rain pitter-pattered against the hard, cold pavement of a convenience store parking lot. There was a lengthy silence before._

_"No." He said softly, taking off his uniform and tossing it to the ground. "I don't."_

_Tom gave a small smile._

_"Well…how do you feel about joining the police force?"_

Shizuo slammed one hand against the radio. "…Tom, can you turn that music off?" He growled under his breath. Tom gave a sly smile before he rolled up his window.

"Why? It's the hottest song to hit the charts these days. Really hip with the kids, apparently."

"Well it's giving me a migraine…" Shizuo mumbled, strapping his seat belt on. Tom turned off the station and did the same, switching the police sirens on and looking to Shizuo for their next move. From that moment, Shizuo used his strength for meaningful purposes. Yes, he was everything a policeman shouldn't be. But his defects were his strengths. He's the most efficient cop Tom, more so Japan, has ever seen; and having rounded up over one hundred criminals in just his first month in the line of duty, Shizuo was a force to be reckoned with. Though there were a few things he could work on, composure being one of them.

"So, guess we've got a hostage situation, huh? Looks like we've got our hands full today. Exciting stuff."

Shizuo gave him a clueless look.

"We do?"

Tom shook his head in disappointment.

"See? This is why the nice lady was repeating herself," Tom mumbled. "She was just doing her job."

"Hey, you!" A raspy voice interrupted from the back. Tom turned around to see that the purse stealer was staring at the back of Shizuo's head, obviously livid about how he was shoved into the car. "I know my rights. You think you can just manhandle me like this, almost break my arms tough guy? When I get my lawyer, your ass is toast, ya hear?! I'm gonna get you fired, you damned shit-head."

"Where's it at again, Tom?" Shizuo asked, promptly ignoring the idiot. Tom knew this was going to be a bumpy ride. He squinted his eyes, and looked at the nearest street sign, pointing to it.

"Two blocks from here, turn right on this street."

"Got it."

Shizuo slammed his foot on the gas pedal and the criminal jerked forward.

"Hey!" The man cried. His hands slammed against the metal gate that separated the perp and the officers. "That hurts!"

Shizuo looked back. The two individuals locked eyes. "Yeah? Well," Letting a grin grace his lips, Shizuo revved the engine and they whizzed down the street. "Blame the fuckers that decided to rob a bank today."

* * *

><p>"Okaaaaaaay!"<p>

Here Mikado was.

"Now, would you please give our lovely assistant a round of applause?!"

Utterly perplexed by the turn of events, Mikado watched the request be met with awkward looks, and cautious hands, limply smacking together. Faces, a mix between shock and pity, peered at Mikado while he was deciding whether he was being hounded by a bunch of robbers, or a group of _very_ enthusiastic philanthropists. They were wooing the crowd well and no longer was anyone crying, but rather laughing with their captors turned entertainers.

"You know, if I weren't robbing this bank, I would definitely be robbing your heart," The ring leader with the exceptionally bold tongue slyly quipped, and Mikado watched him skip across the room, wiggling his eyebrows at one of the bank's tellers. The business women in a _very _short skirt was his target, and tousling her luscious, crimson locks over her shoulder with a giggle, she rolled her eyes. Swaying her hips in a lucrative manner, the thiry-something year old turned away but hummed to herself.

"Mmm, maybe in ten years, kid."

This was starting to become _highly _inappropriate.

Mikado could point out a list of things wrong with this scene. Was this supposed to be a joke?

"You can have my number stud," Another of the bank's employee's cat called, and Mikado's mouth hung open stupidly. For having the IQ of a certified genius, he in all his intellect, couldn't comprehend what was going on.

One minute he was being pushed towards the vault, over the counter, his feet dragging as he went and his face paler than a ghost's sheet on Halloween - and the next? He was watching in mute disturbance as his captor—as well as the evening's entertainer—was turning this whole hostage situation into a circus. Laughs and all.

"So where ya from, hottie?"

"You're quite the cutie."

"Haha. You like Three-way stand off? Me too!"

The people in yellow scarves were chatting away with their "hostages," and Mikado was beginning to feel disoriented. Meanwhile, Kida actually pulled out his phone, and to Mikado's incredulity, took down a few of the women's numbers. He felt his jaw drop a few more levels. If this was _reality, _and not some lewd scene out of a highly pedonistic porno_, _he was finding it _very_ hard to distinguish the two. He shook his head in a vain effort to wake himself up before turning back towards the vault.

While everyone was joking around and making _friends _with their savior turned captors, the young man was trying to think of a subtle way to steer the robbers in a direction that wasn't conducive to their cause.

Mikado shut his eyes. He had to think. _Think. _Maybe if he just said that before he was bluffing, they would believe him? Besides, he was _sixteen. _No one here knew he was actually in college, except Anri, so it was plausible that he, being a teenager, could have just been boasting to impress the lovely girl next to him.

Mikado decided he would run with that.

"Sooo…how about that code?" Kida's voice chirped from behind him, and Mikado actually squeaked in surprise. How did he get there so fast when just a minute ago he was peeking up an employee's skirt?

"Ah. The code? Well, u-uhm…you see," the brunet swallowed. He could do this, he told himself. It was just a white lie. There was no way Kida would see through it, right? "I actually…really don't know it." Mikado said steadily. _Alright. Almost there._

"I was just bluffing before...because _she_ was watching." He continued to mumble. Embarrassedly he glanced at Anri, trying to make his voice convincing. "It isn't like I'm a genius or anything. Besides, Kida, that would be ridiculous, right? I'm sorry, for lying." Mikado didn't even know why he was the one apologizing here, but he hoped that he sounded sincere enough that it would get him out of this jam

Kida remained silent for a few, tense seconds.

Then he smiled wide.

"Don't sweat it." The boy laughed, smacking Mikado playfully on the shoulder. The college student's body practically slumped with relief. _It worked? _Ah, Mikado was so happy he got himself out of this without getting bludgeoned to death! He timidly smiled back at Kida, realizing now that he was in the clear.

"Thank you."

"I mean, it isn't like _this." _There was a swish of the hand. A square, plastic picture, held between the thumb and forefinger of glowing, milky skin appeared. "Is yours, am I right?" Kida's lips curved upwards into the most sadistic grin Mikado's ever seen, and his stomach dropped.

Mikado patted his pockets, noticing that his wallet was gone. Which meant…

"How...did you get that?"

_His Raira ID._

"Sticky fingers, Mikado," Kida practically sing-songed, wiggling his hands in a motion to emphasize his point. "I don't only use my hands for pleasing the ladies. I'm actually quite skilled in the art of item preservation!" _Item preservation? Did he mean thievery?_

_"_I'm just so hurt!" Kida finished with a wail. "To think, we were becoming such good friends too. Yes! Just moments ago, we were engaging in such an intimate, heavy conversation over a certain goddess's D-sized rack. Didn't you feel the strength of our bond? The connection?"

At the time, all Mikado felt was _concerned._

"Ah, cruel fate's a man in women's clothing!" Kida continued on and he flicked the card at Mikado's chest, then swayed dramatically to the left. It was a miracle the other didn't hit something. "But it seems I was right about before. You're my age, and in college no less? You really are the professor of nerds!"

Mikado felt his eye twitch.

"Those weren't your exact words."

Kida chuckled. He placed a hand on Mikado's shoulder and leaned in.

"Well, you weren't _exactly _truthful." Kida murmured against the brunet's ear, his hot breath fanning over the flesh of Mikado's cheek, causing him to recoil with something unfamiliar.

Feeling himself shiver, Mikado's face flushed pink when Kida pulled away. They locked eyes. Kida's large, yellow irises, burned into his questioning blue ones. Then suddenly, as the moment happened, it passed; and a song played. A loud, fruity melody, that had had Kida stiffening, straight as plank. The obstructing tune that rang in the bank made Kida's face morph from deep thought, to noticeable anxiety.

"…Shit." He cussed.

Mikado, still slightly dazed watched a conflicted look etch onto the others features, then Kida pulled out an orange cell. He quickly brought it to his ear. Begrudgingly, Kida clicked the call button.

"Hello?"

Mikado snapped out of whatever trance like state he'd been in—_was it claustrophobia? Shock?—_before a voice, loud and lethal like a toxin, dripped through the receiver.

_"Is there a problem, Masaomi?"_

Kida winced.

"None at all," He answered, his voice noticeably cracking. "Everything's going well. You should't have had to call."

_Masaomi? _Mikado overheard it and ran the name through his head. Masaomi Kida was his full name, then. He looked to Kida for answers but received none. He was disturbingly tense for someone who was so full of life. Mikado found that it didn't suit him, but he stayed quiet enough to eavesdrop on the rest, curious as to who would make him nervous like this.

Grinding his teeth together, Kida hissed a harsh, "Well? What do you want?"

The voice on the end of the phone laughed.

_"Oh, nothing. Can't a concerned friend check up on your progress?"_

"I didn't realize you were capable of concern…_Izaya_." Kida spat mockingly. The name was said with bile and fists clenched and unclenched, as if he were trying desperately hard not to scream. Mikado stared rather dumbfounded. Clueless as to what was going on, and kind of…what's the right word? _Intimidated_ of whomever was making Kida react this way. This Izaya person was obviously not someone Kida liked.

"_There are a lot of things about me that might surprise you."_

Kida rolled his eyes at that.

"I think I know enough."

_"Ah, but that's where you're painfully wrong, Masaomi."_ Somewhere, in some office, devilish lips curved into a taut sneer._ "If you knew enough, you wouldn't be in this predicament now would you?"_

Kida's breath hitched, and Izaya took that moment to chide the delinquent's ignorance with a soft tutt of his lips. His voice became low and expectant as the next sentence made Mikado's heart race._ "Have you succeeded in opening the vault?"_

Kida avoided Mikado's wandering orbs like the plague. "I'm getting too it." Kida answered on autopilot, all cheer and pep from earlier devoid from his vocal chords. Mikado heard it loud and clear. The person on the phone asked about the vault, so that meant he_k new _what was going on. Which meant, Mikado could only hypothesize, that whoever was on the phone might have been the brains behind this operation. Or at least, helped organize it.

With his face fixated on the ground, Kida bit his lip. His shoulders stayed hunched, almost trembling, and it looked like Kida was waiting for whoever this mastermind was, to hang up before he started screaming.

"I'll be out of here soon," Kida reassured Izaya, but it sounded more like he was reassuring himself.

_"Well I have no doubt you'll succeed.,_ Izaya chirped. _"If you do everything I instructed."_

"It'll be done," Kida said almost resignedly.

_"Good boy."_

Mikado found he really hated how patronizing _he_ sounded.

Maybe the college student felt even more inclined to sympathize, considering Kida was his age, yet involved in something so incriminating to his future. But none of this settled right. How someone as lively as Kida was clammed up like this. He thought for a moment, how much fun Kida would be if he were just a normal kid. Not delving in stuff like this. Just what kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? What drove him to this point? Mikado was drawn to him for reasons that went beyond curiosity and he couldn't quite place it, because destiny and fate were clichés, and he'd never entertain the concept of them.

_"Seeing as my dear Officer Shizu-chan is going to be here soon, it would behoove you to work a little more quickly."_

"I'm on it."

Mikado just _knew_ it wasn't in his colorful personality to blindly follow orders like this.

_"Unless you no longer care about what happens to…-haha, well I don't need to spell it out now, do I?"_ The voice said humorously, and Mikado blinked. That sounded…almost like a…_"But just remember, Masaomi. Where your priorities are."_

Kida's voice became urgent. "I do!" He insisted with surprising force, now holding the phone with both hands. "I do remember! J-just…give me some time. Haha. Alright? It'll be done."

Mikado watched Kida swallow thickly, and traced the curvature of his adam's apple, appearing and disappearing behind a smooth pasture of skin.

Kida nodded his head, albeit no one but Mikado was around to watch him. "It'll be done." He repeated one last, desperate time. The voice seemed satisfied with that answer, because clapping could be hear beyond the static that followed.

_"Very good."_

Kida released a much needed breath.

_"I'll see you soon then, Masaomi."_

A promise.

A click.

Those words hung in the air, heavy and burdening like a ship anchor. Mikado never felt so relieved to hear a dial tone, but he noticed Kida's face looked stone cold. The arm Kida used to answer his device, fell limply to the side. Mikado could do nothing but watch all the light from the teen's eyes disappear, to be replaced with something raw. A black canvas of hopelessness, Mikado thought he only witnessed in horror movies.

Faintly, Mikado heard the sound of police sirens. He decided to speak out.

"…U-Uh…Kida…?" He watched himself call.

He didn't know what drove him into doing so, but it was probably a bad idea. Mikado placed a hand on Kida's shoulder for whatever reason. He didn't even know if it was because he felt bad, or if it was to simply reassure him of an unknown idea that needed reassurance, but he wasn't surprised when he received no response, because it looked like the bandit leader just…_shut down._ Mikado realized how odd this situation was truly turning out to be. Here he was, trying to comfort the same person who was attempting to rob everyone. It just he wasn't used to seeing someone so…_destroyed._

"Kida are…you okay?" Mikado asked seriously, ignoring the stares from the other occupants who were watching him from the corner of the bank.

Kida suddenly came to life with a start.

Mikado wasn't prepared for it. Kida let out a chuckle, but it lacked the true humor from before. It was wrong somehow. Mikado's gut told him he should step away.

"Sorry, about this…"

"S-sorry?" Mikado echoed. "About…what-…?"

Before he could so much as twitch, the barrel of a gun he didn't know Kida had was aimed _directly _at Mikado's face.

Mikado couldn't react.

Not when Kida was staring straight _through_ him.

"But I can't afford to mess around anymore…Open the vault."

The gun cocked.


	3. Chapter 3: As soon as their is life

**Author's Note:** You guys have probably noticed it's been a while since the last update, but now I'm alive and more inspired than ever to write for the Durarara fandom on a constant basis. Season two being split into three, gorgeous cour's, is an honest dream come true for me. I've been waiting for years for the Light Novel's to be animated in their entirety to the very end, and low and behold, now they are. Anyways, given the weird and surprisingly positive reactions this idea of an AU got me from all you readers, I'm going to continue it and finish it. I hope that you like what I come up with, though given the different circumstances the characters might behave a tad differently. Thanks for sticking with me.

I went back and edited the previous chapters so they'd flow better as well, seeing as my writing style changed just a bit since when I first posted this. I hope it's for the better and not the worst.

**Warnings:** Some disturbing content, and tons of Kida's self-loathing.

* * *

><p><strong>【As soon as their is life, there is danger】<strong>

* * *

><p>Masaomi tripped long ago, and he's been in a perennial state of falling ever since.<p>

As he held a semi-automatic pistol in his trembling right hand, pointed at a guy no older then he was, he had presumed his downward plunge (more like an awful, painful push, face first into his personal hell) had started with his youthful folly. His need for little things with no one to outright reject him, gaining speed with his lack of luster responses, finally caused him to crash when he didn't have the skills to avoid the unavoidable.

In a small house, in a small town, his childhood wasn't necessarily filled with a direct _yes_ or _no_, but with an echo that seemed to go anywhere but its intended direction. Masaomi was sure he wasn't bothered by it, but in some ways maybe he was. Childish whims, left unfulfilled by wordless head turns and blank stares, weren't responsible for his position but would eventually play a role in waltzing him towards it.

When he was less informed, less smudged, shining positively in the glow of total ignorance he'd wonder to himself if the outcome could have been different. If he'd been raised in an average, mediocre home, or looked after by kind, doting parents who only wanted what was best for him... would he still be here?

Stupidity is what brought him to Ikebukuro and stupidity was inherently his. So yes, he would still be in this melodramatic, laughable, television scenario even under those rose-colored circumstances. He'd been serious about moving to Ikebukuro. Devastatingly curious. A bright eyed, young and hopeful thing who blindly trusted the unknown was full of pious intentions, completely unaware that beneath every coat of gold lay a thick layer of grime.

Although it was mostly his fault, his upbringing did play a minor role in his motivation and insisting otherwise would be an ingenuous amount of slander. After all, when he left his parents at that untimely, ripe age of thirteen—on the cusp of awareness, but not quite—it was partly due to having no one to tell him otherwise. But who really knew if getting told off like any other teenage boy would have had its merits?

Sure it might have at least planted the seed of doubt that could have saved him from his current lease on life, but he honestly doubted it would have worked out that way. Though it would have certainly boosted his morale if his parents _acknowledged _the sound of their only son walking straight past their door.

Masaomi remembered that waving his hands around, gesticulating wildly at them didn't do much in the long run but make him look spastic. Which at times he could be. He was born transparent and he knew that any normal person wouldn't develop the necessary ESP to see him.

The shock came fast and hard when he stepped foot in Ikebukuro, and saw how easily that transparency was rotted off and shed like a separate skin. It left him tangible, struggling blindly in his now palpable existence, and Masaomi hadn't known what to do or who to reach out to until an outstretched hand emerged from the confusion...-

_"I'm Izaya Orihara..."_

【-...and showed him just how **alive** he could truly be.】

"Open it!" Masaomi found himself barking intensely, and Mikado flinched at the tone, gazing forlornly at the vault. Then he turned his blue eyes to him and Masaomi saw something he couldn't make out in Mikado's face. He no longer looked small or disoriented, but like he'd uncovered something deep inside of his mangled soul and was resolved to confront and dissect it.

It stunted him. So much so that Masaomi found he couldn't do a thing but give Mikado a rough shove, just so he wouldn't have to look at him anymore. He gestured with the gun towards the safe, which was beyond the teller's counter, and he could feel every nerve in his body tingle and every bead of perspiration _bubble_ against his skin. Mikado just swallowed then nodded, moving completely towards it. Masaomi stared blankly as the other dropped to his knees in front of the number pad and began to slowly decipher what was in front of him. Masaomi just clenched his jaw.

He deserved this.

Masaomi was positive nothing could save him from the variation of faults that made him who he was today and lead him here. He was a punk. "_Damaged..." _Masaomi could hear the words whispered in his ear now, and he wanted to cave into himself at the memory. Of pale fingers wrapping around the smooth curve of his neck and pressing ever slightly. "_Damaged and gift-wrapped __extraordinarily... _" And he learned to live with that handicap. It made him who he was.

If he was suddenly and miraculously repaired, Masaomi would undoubtedly destroy himself. He was sure of it. Since Masaomi Kida was smudged, flawed from the moment he broke out into the world and robbed it of a single breath, now that's all he was good for. Taking things that weren't his.

"Step back," He warned when Mikado's fingers stopped moving, and the door to the vault began to open slowly.

Masaomi drew in a shaky breath.

If only he could rob the world of himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Two years ago<strong>

"Kida, what the hell's a matter with you? We've got a party of eight coming in right now. Get a move on!"

Masaomi was surprised when he miraculously maneuvered around the busy floor with a few menus, a pitcher of water, and that same blindingly cheesy smile that threatened to crack apart his face. He was at his third job, a dingy restaurant around Sunshine City, and it was packed. Ever since a Taiwanese place nearly got busted a day ago for smuggling narcotics in their Pad Thai, business has boomed. But it wasn't the food or anything that brought people in. Week old sushi tasted better than the pasta at Quentantino's. but the the hype of eating next to the site of an undercover drug syndicate gave it flavor.

"Why _hello_, how are you this evening?" Masaomi said cheerfully to the couple who just sat down, to which he was promptly ignored. Whatever. That's okay. His smile remained plastered on his exhausted face (all thanks to months of practiced ass-kissing) and he stood there calmly as the man glared, muttered something under his breath, then gestured for water.

Ten minutes left till his shift ends. _Ten minutes, _and he could leave this place, travel back to his craptastic apartment in downtown 'Bukuro, and hopefully get a few hours of sleep before his next job at the Sushi place. Masaomi was making it on his own. Barely. But the fact still remained that he was getting by. Although he thought it would be difficult to get someone to hire him because of his age, he'd learned that to get a gig in this city didn't take much convincing. Child labor laws aside, people didn't look twice if they needed the extra help. A few forged documents, a nice tidy head of hair, and he'd had no trouble getting work.

Masaomi set the pitcher on the table and skillfully poured the beverage into two half-cleaned glasses, all while trying to avoid rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Man, now that he glanced, he'd seen a lot of ugly guys come in an out of this place since he started, but this one took the cake. The person in front of him was a rough looking dude with criss-crossed eyes, a beard like barb wires, and a belly that could rival the size of the Tokyo Imperial Palace. Which made the fact that his date was insanely attractive even more surprising, because she was a _ten. _The women he was with had large blue eyes, golden hair, and—at a risk of sounding lamely poetic—lips as pink as rose petals.

"My name is Kida," Masaomi said slowly, finding that addressing the gorgeous foreigner was way easier on the eyes. The beginnings of puberty probably caused his gaze to drift to her rack a bit longer than socially acceptable, but no one noticed and he sure didn't mind. "I'll be your waiter for today, okay? What can I get you both?" He smiled wide. "We have a special on the front page of your menu's that I think will blow your mind! If you'll just take a look, I can show-"

"Save us the sale's pitch and get me the shrimp linguine," The man in the booth grumbled, narrowing his eyes. He sure was radiating his own fragrance of dick, but he'd seen that attitude before.

"Ah. Wonderful choice, sir!" Masaomi slapped his hands together, falsely appreciative. His eyes gently met the women's once more. "And what will you be having, miss?"

"Y-Yes... I will... have... " He watched her respond in broken Japanese, but she didn't get a chance to finish. The man, who Masaomi assumed was her husband, rose quickly from the table.

"Damnit. Did I say you could answer, huh?!" The man screamed. "She's getting the same thing I'm getting!"

Masaomi's bogus smile was wiped clean.

"I-I..." The women's mouth flew closed as a resounding crack filled the air, and Masaomi's mouth formed a tight line as he watched her fall back against her seat. She hiccuped, holding her cheek, and then she was slapped again. Harder this time.

Masaomi's fingers twitched to help.

Instead, he settled on lamely looking around, somewhat anxious for his manager to come over and say something. Except no one would. That's just how it is. After ten months of living here, Masaomi came to quickly realize that the city he'd read about on the net wasn't as three dimensional as it seemed. There was as much indifference to the unnatural as their was to the broken water fountain in west gate park, and bordering extreme in some area's to melancholic in others, Ikebukuro was unpredictable yet predictable. It thrived on chaos.

The people here who teetered towards unfiltered corruption like this guy in front of him, or earnest innocence like this hot chick, they never worked out. Because to survive in this jungle Masaomi learned you had to be a little bit of both, which is why he couldn't be the good Samaritan who foolishly butts in on this lovers quarrel, or he'd get eaten alive. He wasn't sure who he was yet in this city, but the tile of hero didn't suit him.

At least that's what he told himself.

But Masaomi Kida knew he was a man of vast contradictions.

Which is why thirty minutes later, he'd find himself walking out of a convenience store, pathetically unemployed, bruised, and harboring a good yen's worth of stolen food products in his hood and jeans. Masaomi couldn't help but shake his head, wondering just why he'd been compelled to get involved in something that had nothing to do with him.

"I'm so beat..." He muttered to himself. Literally and figuratively. He'd been pretty roughed up from trying to help the women when her husband went in for another blow, and no sooner then he lifted a finger to help her he'd been fired on the spot.

Masaomi dug a hand into the pocket of his jeans and sighed, while the other gently kneaded the skin of his bruised jaw. After leaving the restaurant he'd gotten hungry and suddenly craved some melon bread, so here he was. The sun was beginning to set somewhere beyond the tall office building in front of him, and he knew that he'd better get home before the street lights came on, or else he'd get caught in some shady business. His place was just ten minutes away on the bus, but he found he wasn't a public-transportation-kind of guy.

As much as hated to admit it, he got some satisfaction out of the whole scene. He did manage to get a few of his own hits in on the guy, and while he blamed it all on being a sucker for cute girls, Masaomi knew that it had been his own moral high ground he'd been trying to vainly discard that got in the way. Though apparently that code of ethics didn't apply to stealing. He'd been robbing this Family mart of merch for months now and he didn't feel the least bit bad over it.

Masaomi skipped across the street, pulling a bar of chocolate out of his pocket before tearing it open with his teeth. He could barely afford the apartment and electricity, so it was a just cause. Besides with all these minimum wage jobs, food wasn't really expendable, and he never got caught. It wasn't a big deal.

"Come back here you little thief!"

_Until now._

Masaomi's body tensed, breaking into a cold sweat. There was no way someone had seen him. He'd been so careful? The teen readied himself to dart into a sprint. If he cut across the alley and jumped over the fence between that comic store and sake bar he would probably be in the clear. And if that didn't work, his boss at Russia Sushi would probably cover for him. Simon was a cool dude as long as you didn't bring any big trouble to the store. He once saw the guy chuck a member of the Yakuza across the street and that was with _one hand._

With a game plan in mind, Masaomi prepared to run. But instead of being chewed out, arrested, and probably tackled to the ground, he stopped when he realized that the store owner wasn't chasing after him. But someone else.

A girl stumbled across the street in a pair of worn out sneakers, faded jeans, and a brown jacket. Then as abruptly as she burst into the clearing, she came to a stop in front of him and clutched the hem of his hoodie like a lifeline. Masaomi held his hands up in an unsure motion of what to do, noticing she was probably his age. She had short, honey brown hair, her bangs swept and settled into the middle of her face, and her hands were placed on her shaking knees as she panted heavily. She was trying to say something but he couldn't make it out with how hard she was breathing.

"P-Please..." She whispered shakily.

When she looked up to meet his eyes, her chestnut hues burned into his and Masaomi felt something weird and pleasantly new surface from deep inside. Whether it was a genuine connection or the violent onslaught of puberty, he just couldn't tell. Things had happened far too suddenly. All he knew was that light flutters, like butterfly kisses were tickling from the inside of his stomach, and they'd flew up his throat and _squeezed _until he couldn't think.

"Kid! Catch her!" The store owner screamed, and Masaomi bit his lip and grabbed her by the hand, which was very _soft_.

Then they ran.

* * *

><p>Masaomi didn't stop running until they were blocks away, out of sight, and sheltered in the comforting glow of a 24-hour arcade. When he finally knew they were safe he crumbled to his knees and <em>laughed. <em>He didn't even know _why_ he was laughing. What just happened was so _ridiculous _and totally too romantic that he couldn't help but curl against the alley wall of the gaming complex with his arms around his stomach.

"That was crazy!" Masaomi shouted, more to himself_, _and he wiped away a stray tear as he grinned up at the sky. "I thought we were both doomed for sure. Did you see how long he ran after us? Pfft- at one point he _trapeze'd _over the cars."

"You're really my hero," Came the light reply, and Masaomi tilted his head up in response to see that the girl he saved was no longer shaken, but watching him calmly with a gentle smile. "You were really brave just now. Thank you for saving me."

"Ah... It was nothing," Masaomi said a little bashfully, scratching his cheek. He felt a little too flushed for some reason. "You really should be careful next time, though. I wouldn't hit that place again, at least not for a while. They'll be looking for you... uh...?"

"Saki. And don't worry, I won't," Saki replied with a giggle, lacing her fingers playfully behind her back. "Besides, now that I finally have what I want, I don't need to go back."

"Yeah?" Masaomi stood up, dusting the dirt off his pants. He faced her fully with a look of inquiry and noticed she was looking back at him with a mysterious gleam. It sort of excited him. "And what was that?"

"You." She said, as though the answer were simple, and Masaomi raised an eyebrow, not exactly sure he was understanding.

"Haha, me?"

"Uh-huh. I've been watching you go in and out of that store for a few months now," Saki twirled a finger through one strand of hair, "I thought you were really cute, so I tried to get your attention."

"By almost getting arrested?" Masaomi shook his head and laughed, "Maybe I should be more weirded out that you were watching me for that long. What, are you my first stalker?" He snickered, raising his fingers and wiggling them suggestively. "If your plan didn't work out, would you have kidnapped me in my sleep?~"

"Mm... maybe I would have, Masaomi," She said almost slyly, and she sauntered up to him more closely. He felt his heart skip. "Would that be okay? If I did kidnap you and kept you all to myself?"

"Only if you take real good care of me." Masaomi said as flirtatiously as he could.

The realization didn't hit him, even as Masaomi was trailblazing up the stairs of his apartment later that day, that something about her was off. She was his type, and totally into him for reasons unknown. He didn't question it. After offering to walk her home, but being flat out rejected, Saki promised to meet up with him later in the week. And when he fell onto his bed and practiced Saki's name on his lips like it was the catchy chorus of a hit single, he didn't once think that she'd had an ulterior motive.

Because obviously, the city was granting him a gift.

Maybe the title of hero did suit him, he couldn't help but foolishly think.

As he let that thought ferment in his brain...

_...it never sunk in that he hadn't even told her his name._

* * *

><p><em>xXx<br>Just a taste of how it all started for him.  
>I know this is short, but I wanted to get something out!<br>Thanks for reading!_


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